As I write this I am sitting in the L’ourika valley, at the foothills of the Atlas Mountains, in central Morocco.
I feel I should be writing something amazingly inspirational regarding my current situation and explaining the seclusion, the peace and quiet of the sanctuary which now surrounds me, since leaving the hustle and bustle of the city of Marrakech far behind. But as yet I have not formed, I have not assimilated or digested these recent experiences to justify writing anything that would prove to be worthwhile reading.
No doubt, given time, I shall write about the sights, sounds and interactions of the past few days, (although today will be long past when I do eventually put pen to paper). For now, my mind is focused on some passing yet re-occurring thought which often flits through my mind.
That thought is one of vistas, why they have such an effect on our emotions, our equilibrium of moment. Why can some views stir us in such a way as to make us draw breath or gasp out loudly, even bring forth tears from our eyes?
As I look up from my current perch, a comfortable chair shielded from the blazing sun by a tent like awning, I have before me a grand scenic panorama of rugged peaks and vales, mostly tinted that shade of purple talcum which is bestowed by distance. There are however, the occasional peaks which are high enough to poke through the low wispy white clouds allowing the sun to highlight the true form of these mountains, the jutting rocks and dark crevices, the crags and crannies; revealing the splintered mass of this towering range.
Yet I am not overly stirred by this view.
I am in awe, even in wonderment, but not emotionally touched in such a way as many other landscapes have managed to evoke.
I wonder why.
The mountain range is vast, they are majestic in their very being. I have the time and the wish to sit and admire the scene. So why am I not moved more than I am?
Have I become blasé, cynical? Are these just ‘another lot of mountains’, I am passing by on my travels, the same old – same old?
I admit I have travelled widely and have seen a many amazing sights, yet I cannot dismiss this one as irrelevant because it is not, it equals many a tableau I have chanced upon. Why then, do I not feel that sense of………wonder……of spectacle?
It is the lack of effect this view has on me which raises the question, the one about why such scenery can stir one’s emotions, to the forefront of my mind once again.
Not to put a dampener on these mountains, or to dissuade those of you who may be planning to visit, I shall reveal yesterday morning I took a Land Rover up there, up into the passes and cascades.
It was a spectacular journey.
Looking down from the high vantage points at the geography, the variants of terrain as the landscape changed was truly amazing and yes, I was stimulated and inspired by the sights.
Which brings me, from a very obtuse angle, to this musing, that thought which frequently crosses my mind but, until I looked up at the Atlas Mountains today, I had not been able to formulate into a reasonable Rambling.
So here is that fleeting thought……..
I believe so often in life we look upon, we peer around, taking in that which is around, about us. That which is affecting us, our social and private interactions. Yet often we see too many things from the wrong perspective, or shrouded in a purple talcum haze.
Many things in our lives we know should stimulate us, excite us, yet we look on unmoved and relatively uninterested; just as I was when looking up from my chair those few moments ago.
This is when we must seek out the places the sun is highlighting, the high bright peeks above our wispy white clouds of disconnection. These are the times we need to buckle up and drive ourselves higher, look down from the dizzying ledges of life, to gaze on the panorama of opportunity and choice spread out before us.
This is when we need to climb our own Mountains of reservation and reluctance, to bathe in the icy waterfalls of clarity and hope.
This is when I realise not all vistas should make you cry out in astonishment, some should just be there, silently and quietly seeping into your soul. Like these amazing and wonderful Mountains which I am once again looking at, but now with new eyes and new pleasure.
Thank you for reading.
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